Reflection. I Just Woke Up and Had Breakfast
On the quiet courage it takes to begin again, one small step at a time.
NB: A quick note, I’m giving my voice a short rest while I recover from a minor throat procedure this week. So, no audio version for this post just yet, but I’ll record it (and the recent ones) once I’m back up and running. Thanks for your patience …. and for listening!
When you’re walking through deep grief, painful loss, or trauma of any kind, energy is often the first thing to disappear. Getting out of bed can suddenly feel incredibly hard and even pointless. Motivation leaves you, and some days it feels almost impossible to just put one foot on the floor, let alone get up and face the world.
People around us often don’t understand what’s going on. They want to help, so they say things like, “Come on, get some fresh air. Why don’t you go for a walk or try this and do that.” And sometimes that encouragement can really help — especially if it comes with an offer to do it with you: “Let’s go and do a short walk in the park together,” or, “How about I come and get you and we go for a drive.” But other times, what a person needs most is not a pep talk, but encouragement to celebrate the tiniest of victories.
When you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.
— Unknown
I think of a conversation I had with my podcast guest, Natasha. She said for some people, progress looks like walking to the letterbox one day, or just stepping out into the garden.
I know there were mornings when I barely managed that myself. I was a high-functioning, “A-type” leader, and suddenly my world had crumbled. I was constantly exhausted, aimless, and felt a deep loneliness despite people being around me. If it wasn’t for the kids and their endless needs, I’m not sure how I would have kept going. Small things like mowing the lawn felt like huge successes because, at least for that season, I wasn’t getting much done and felt a lack of direction and purpose.
I once heard someone say when they were feeling this way, “I just got up and had breakfast.” And sometimes, if you can do that, that’s a win. I was walking alongside someone who was really struggling and just couldn’t seem to get up and continue on in life, and this phrase seemed so relevant.
Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’
— Mary Anne Radmacher
It might sound small. But when you have lost so much, when your body and soul feel weighed down by grief, that small act is anything but small. It’s an act of defiance. It’s survival. It’s one step forward.
I don’t believe the old saying, ‘Time heals all wounds.’ (On a side note, who came up with all these sayings that really aren’t very helpful in the darkest of times?) Time alone doesn’t fix things. Some things are just not fixable. But time, along with some of these little daily steps, becomes an important ingredient in helping us find ways to move forward.
One day you get up and make breakfast. The next day, you make breakfast and take a short walk. A week later, maybe you’re replying to emails or meeting a friend for coffee. Each of these is a marker on the road; not a road that erases pain or loss, but one that slowly opens space for hope.
There is no instruction manual on how to grieve. No milestones to tick off on some checklist. Different personalities, different contexts, different stories mean people will respond in different ways. Some seem to bounce back quickly on the outside, others collapse under the weight of it all. There’s no ‘one’ way to respond and certainly no ‘right’ way. There’s just your way, and that will be different for every person.
And one of the most important things we can do is not judge how a person responds. Not try to project onto them what we think we would do or what they should do. Because the reality is that when a storm hits, most of us don’t respond in the way we thought we would during the calm before it.
Grief and loss are unbelievably unpredictable and disruptive. They knock us sideways in ways we may never have imagined. Yes, we all need to keep moving in some way, but there’s no one-size-fits-all version of what that looks like. No clear, repeatable timeframe that says, “By day two you should be doing this.”
People need encouragement to go easy on themselves. It helps when they’re not surrounded by well-intentioned people telling them to toughen up or get over it. This isn’t only true in death. It’s true for people walking through burnout, depression, a relationship breakdown, or overwhelming seasons of parenting. In every case, the principle is the same: progress often begins with the smallest step.
Jesus’ words in the Lord’s Prayer come to mind: “Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11). Sometimes all we can manage is today’s bread, today’s breakfast, today’s one small act of faithfulness.
So let’s not think we need to push people to recover according to a timetable or the way we think our personality might. Instead, let’s be the kind of friends, parents, or colleagues who notice and celebrate the small steps. Who say, “You got up today. You had breakfast. That’s enough. Well done.”
Because maybe that one small act is the beginning of finding a path forward, a path that, with time, could lead toward a future that may look different from the one they longed for, but still provides some glimmers of joy and hope.
Healing isn’t about getting over it. It’s about learning to live where it no longer controls you.
— Unknown
A Question/s to Reflect on.
What might be one small step for you in this season — something that helps you start moving again, even a little?
Who in your world might be taking small, unseen steps — and how could you notice or encourage them gently?
From Reflection to Action:
(These are just suggestions – maybe choose 1 or 2 to try)
For you:
Start small but be intentional. Choose one simple daily task — breakfast, shower, a walk to the letterbox — and recognise it as progress, not just an obligation.
Record your small victories. Keep a notebook or start a note in your phone or begin a section in your journal titled ‘Signs of Life.’ Identify one small thing you did each day that took courage or effort. At times, when you don’t feel like you’re making any progress, open this up to remind yourself.
Re-frame your expectations. The healing journey isn’t linear. Replace “I should be further along” with “I’m still moving.”
If you’re trying to support someone:
Show up gently. Be present without trying to lift them out of their struggle. Offer to share a coffee, a walk, or a simple errand together.
Affirm effort, not outcome. Tell someone, “I see how hard you’re trying and that matters.” It might be exactly what they need to hear.
Replace motivational talks with presence. Instead of saying, “Come on, you’ll be okay,” try, “This looks really hard, but I’m here with you.”
As always:
Take a listen to the Resilient Souls podcast where you’ll find many stories of people who began with something as simple as getting up and having breakfast.
You might appreciate listening to the episode I mentioned in this article, my conversation with Natasha Rae, whose story offers gentle, practical hope for taking those first small steps again.
Bible Verses on Taking One Day at a Time:
Matthew 6:11 (NIV) — “Give us today our daily bread.”
Lamentations 3:22–23 (NLT) — “The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”
Psalm 37:23–24 (CEV) — “If you do what the Lord wants, he will make certain each step you take is sure. The Lord will hold your hand, and if you stumble, you still won’t fall.”
Isaiah 40:31 (NIV) — “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”